


Weightless

by not_whelmed_yet



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: F/F, No Plot/Plotless, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Zero-gravity sex, can you believe there's a tag for that??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 16:43:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13640250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_whelmed_yet/pseuds/not_whelmed_yet
Summary: When the gravity goes out in their private spaceship, Windblade is rather in the mood to try an experiment.





	Weightless

**Author's Note:**

> Characterization in this fic is based primarily on Windblade issue 1, after which I rather lost interest with their canon plotlines. Where is this set? Some mysterious ship Windblade and Chromia are on, going somewhere mysterious. When is it set? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Anyway, midway through I began to have doubts about doing zero-g lesbian robot erotica as my first foray into writing physical intimacy but whatever. You gotta write what you want to read sometimes.

The grav went out again, sending Windblade floating up off the berth. She grabbed her datapad and the side of the berth to hold herself down before turning to look over at Chromia, who'd made an adorable surprised squeaking noise when they lost gravity. Sure enough, Chromia had managed to get herself stuck upside down—again—and was presently trying to swim her way back to a more upright position.

“I thought you said you've fixed the grav generators?” Windblade said. She let the datapad float away and then pushed over to rescue Chromia.

Chromia took her offered hand and swam her way upright. “I did!” She protested. “They must have broken again. I'll go take a look.”

Chromia turned to go and Windblade wrapped an arm around her, pulling close to her side. “Aw, what's the rush?”

“Floating everywhere is damned annoying and we'll be floating till I fix the thing,” Chromia said instantly. “Unless you want to try your hand at mechanics for a change?”

“Nah,” Windblade said. “I like watching you work. You're cute when you get all greasy.” She pulled Chromia down a bit to plant a kiss on her cheek, just to watch the flush rise on her plating. “But floating's not all that bad. It's kind of fun. Last time you got it fixed before we could have any fun at all.”

“And what sort of _fun_ , exactly, were you imagining?” Chromia asked.

“Oh, you know,” Windblade ducked under Chromia's arm to swing herself so they were facing, then looped her legs around Chromia's waist and planted her hands on her shoulders. “The usual.” She leaned in for another kiss and whispered against Chromia's lips, “Bodies in space. So much easier to position without gravity holding them down.”

Chromia frowned against her lips. “But the grav engine—”

“Will wait. The ship's set to course. There's nobody here but us. Do you really have something you'd rather do than me?” Windblade asked, pouting the way that always made Chromia cave.

Chromia groaned. “Why did I have to pick the highest revved mech on all of Caminus?” Her hands drifted down to rest on Windblade's lower wings, running aimlessly over sensitive plating. Chromia kissed her back with a vengeance, sending the pair of them spinning gently toward the floor. “Fine. But I want at least five minutes of kissing first.”

Windblade rolled her eyes, but snuggled closer to Chromia's chest. Chromia enjoyed interfacing as much as the next mech, but she lived for cuddling. Windblade sometimes pretended to be put upon, but watching her fierce bodyguard let her guard down all the way and confess how much she loved Windblade's touch always melted her spark. “Deal,” she said, poking her glossa out to lick over Chromia's lips. Chromia reared away and Windblade collapsed into giggles.

“No licking!” Chromia grumbled, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. “You're incorrigible.”

“You're adorable,” Windblade said. “Okay, no licking. I promise.”

“You promised _last time_ ,” Chromia said. But she gathered Windblade back into her arms and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. Her lips were warm, tingling just a bit with charge under her plating. Windblade sighed and relaxed into Chromia's embrace as she peppered her lips with little kisses. Windblade dimmed her optics as their lips met and held, Chromia's hands digging into her back with possessive intensity.

Their lips parted and they shared a breath, Windblade holding her glossa back behind her denta and waiting for Chromia to signal if she wanted to take the kiss further. Chromia had a list of hangups about intimacy as long as Windblade's arm, and aggressive-glossa-dueling kisses were definitely on the list. But sometimes Chromia let her glossa play over Windblade's bottom lip, tasting her and playing at it with her denta.

Something bumped into Windblade's wing and she started in surprise. She powered up her optics to see Chromia brush her floating datapad out of their way and then push off the floor with a flex of her legs. That sent them drifting back towards the window, the stars outside bright against the low interior lights. Windblade caught Chromia's optics and reached out a hand to capture Chromia's, squeezing as she melted back into their kiss. Chromia hummed in pleasure, bringing their clasped hands up to the side of her face to nuzzle against.

They floated, bumping up against the window as Windblade tried to use her knees to keep them from drifting back into the center of the room. Her hands were busy playing at Chromia's audial fins, teasing at the edges of the plating as it heated under her hands as she nipped at Chromia's lips. Chromia purred in response, rolling her hips against Windblade's and pulling their bodies flush with her strong capable arms. “Has it been five minutes yet, handsome?” Windblade asked eventually. Not that she wasn't _enjoying_ this...

“Maybe,” Chromia said, voice husky. “Did you have plans for our next move?”

“Mm, well, now that you mention it...” Windblade squirmed against her, “no gravity. I was thinking I'd like to get my mouth on some _other_ part of you. I thought maybe you'd like to do the same.”

“No gravity...” Chromia mused. “You have a wicked imagination, sweetspark.” She nodded towards the door. “Howabout we scoot out into the corridor? Less junk floating around out there to interrupt the mood.”

“You just don't want to frag up against the window,” Windblade said. Aww. Chromia flushed so sweetly when she was embarrassed.

“No. I just don't want to have to fend off datapads left and right while we're trying to—to—”

“Cyberfox got your tongue?” Windblade grinned. Ask Chromia to detail the impact of a needle grenade on the Cybertronian body, she was right there. Ask her to say the words 'frag my valve with your glossa' and she acted like some blushing newframe who'd just heard of pleasure mods for the first time. Chromia would have given spark and energon to be there at the medic appointment when Chromia had actually gotten her mods, just to hear her poor blushing sweetspark struggle with the words.

“Windy,” Chromia whined.

“Yeah, yeah, we can scoot,” Windblade said. This was still all so new. Chromia would get with the program eventually, and even if she never got a mouth on her Windblade was still going to keep loving her. As long as she didn't mind actually putting her mouth on Windblade. Windblade fired up her jets in short flares to propel their linked bodies over to the door out into the corridor. Chromia reached over for the door control and keyed it open so they could escape.

Out in the hallway the walls were closer, curved expanses of white metal with recessed lighting that made Chromia's plating glow. Windblade let go for a moment to back up and admire her lover. Chromia frowned in confusion for a moment and then, catching Windblade's drift, sighed dramatically and put her hands on her hips. “Are you quite done?” She asked.

“Gonna need another minute,” Windblade said. “Just caught sight of the most gorgeous bot in the galaxy, I need to make sure I get this image burned deep in my spark.”

Chromia pulled her hands around her midsection, hiding that expanse of smooth white plating Windblade loved. “ _Windblade,_ ” she said, doubt heavy in her voice. Damned Camien beauty standards.

Windblade jetted up to her and lifted those hands from her midsection to plant a kiss on the plating they'd hidden. “Gorgeous. I don't care what anyone else has ever said to you. You look strong, and I love that. You're not fancy, but _you're_ not fancy. You're you, and you look like you and it drives me wild.” Windblade scooted lower to run her hands over the red seams boxing in the insides of Chromia's thighs. She tipped her fingers to run the points along the inside edge of the seam. Chromia shivered and Windblade grinned up at her.

Chromia was looking down at her, optics shining, mouth agape. Windblade wasn't sure how to read that expression, wasn't sure she'd ever caught Chromia with that look on her face before. She boosted back up to press their foreheads together. “You okay?” She murmured.

“Windblade...” Chromia pulled away and cupped Windblade's face in her hands. “I am so much more than okay.” She smoothed his thumbs over the high points of Windblade's cheeks.

Windblade leaned into her hand and tilted her face to press a little kiss to Chromia's thumb. “Am I going to ruin the moment if I suggest we actually frag?”

Chromia snorted a laugh and then couldn't stop. Somehow Windblade ended up catching the giggles from her and then, just as Chromia was managing to get her breathing under control their optics met and set them both off again.

Eventually Chromia managed to stop laughing long enough speak. “That would be fine. If you wanted to,” she panted.

“I'd like to,” Windblade allowed, once she'd managed to hunt down and dispatch the remaining surviving giggles. “Do you want to go upside down or should I?”

“We could float so we're both horizontal.” Chromia pointed out. Ever the practical bot with no sense of fun.

“You just stay still now,” Windblade said. Then she wrapped her legs around Chromia's waist and leaned back, throwing her hands above her head to catch Chromia's ankles. She grinned up at Chromia before flipping over to face her and then walking up her legs backwards.

“Careful,” Chromia said with a smile in her voice as she guided Windblade's knees away from what was probably her face. “Primus, Windy. Nobody would ever believe what an utter goof you are if I told them.”

“Not that you'd ever kiss and tell, right?” Windblade said, wrapping her arms around Chromia's hips and planting a teasing kiss on Chromia's modesty plating. She could feel Chromia locking her arms around her hips, the lack of gravity forcing her to hold on or drift apart.

“Mm?” Chromia nibbled along the edge of Windblade's pelvic plating in a ticklish burst of sensation. Windblade wiggled against her, already dancing with charge under her plating. “Never, sweetspark.”

Windblade retaliated by running the tip of her glossa along the seam of her modesty paneling. “Hey, 'mia. Wanna open for me?”

“Yeah, yeah, one sec,” Chromia muttered. She squeezed at Windblade's hips as she triggered her unfolding sequence, baring vulnerable blue plating. Windblade reciprocated with an effortless command, freeing hot plating to the cool air. Chromia nuzzled the side of her face up against sensitive plating, setting Windblade's anterior node alight. “What do you want, Windy?” Chromia asked, speaking into the crux of her.

“Node? The way you do, little circles? Start slow,” Windblade said, rolling her hips against the delicious pressure. “And you?”

“Can you reach, with your fingers?”

Windblade tried it, wrist bent awkwardly to trace out the circular lips of Chromia's valve, the fragile spiraled cover still sealed tight. A soft blue fading to white at the center, the plating was delightfully malleable under the pads of her fingers. “I can reach. You want me to tease you, don't you?”

“Mm,” Chromia hummed. “Little bit.”

“Your wish is my command. Only the best for my loyal bodyguard.” Windblade leaned in to the nub of Chromia's node between her lips and toyed with it, splaying her fingers out over her valve and tracing them around the edges. Chromia's hips stuttered against her and her glossa finally found Windblade's node, the flat of it rubbing circles of firm pressure. Windblade relaxed into it and continued teasing at Chromia's valve lips until the cover retracted enough to fit a finger inside. She walked her fingers over to the entrance and rolled her finger around, urging the cover to retract the rest of the way. The wet walls of her valve lining was velveteen soft under her fingers as she sought out and brushed over the sensor nodes with careful precision.

Chromia, iron composure, kept laving at Windblade's node in those same soft circles. Windblade tried and then felt quite disappointed at the lack of a berth to push against. She wasn't sure if they were upside down or rightside up anymore, but while zero-g did cut down on the pre-interfacing negotiations, she missed having something solid to push against.

Chromia didn't seem to be bothered by it, rocking into Windblade's teasing fingers, inner mesh saturating with lubricant that slid slick under pressure. Windblade wondered if the surface tension would be sufficient to keep it inside, or they were minutes from seeing an erotic demonstration of fluids in zero-g. Chromia moaned against her and lifted her face away. “More?”

“What's the magic word?” Windblade asked, swirling a single finger such that it barely touched the edges of her valve.

“Frag me,” Chromia groaned.

“Isn't that what we're doing? Didn't you want me to tease you? You said so,” Windblade said, sugar sweet.

“And I'm very teased now!” Chromia said. “Please frag me with your fingers.”

“Oh, handsome, you should have said.” She dipped two fingers in deep and scissored them against her sensornodes, latching back onto Chromia's nub and sucking. They bumped against something—walls or floor or ceiling—and Windblade slid a third finger in and began to rub over an interior node cluster. Chromia kicked out with her legs and must have pushed them off, cause they shortly after bumped into some other something. Chromia hadn't gotten her glossa back on Windblade's node, but it was hard to focus when you were being driven to distraction. And Windblade considered herself an _expert_ at distraction.

It was less than a minute of her undivided attention before she had Chromia shuddering around her, charge sparking electric against her glossa. When she'd worked Chromia through the aftershocks, she pulled her fingers free with a wet squelch of suction. High surface tension though, apparently, because no little droplets went flying. She let go and wiggled out of Chromia's overload-loosened arms before righting herself—relative to Chromia—and looking around. Apparently they were _both_ upside down now. She used her jets to get her arms around Chromia, kissing the residual charge off her lips with a grin. Chromia smiled back at her.

“Sorry, got distracted,” she said after a moment.

“I know,” Windblade said. She wiggled her fragging fingers at Chromia. “I'm very distracting.”

“Well I'm sure I can make it up to you,” Chromia said.

“I don't know,” Windblade said. “I'm less into this 'no gravity' business than I thought. Maybe after you fix the grav engines.”

“You want me to fix them _now_?” Chromia moaned. “I want to take a nap.”

“Oh no. This is not naptime. Engine fixing.” Windblade said sternly with a shake of her fingers. “Engine fixing, then round two.”

“What about just a little nap?” Chromia suggested. “We could just float here, get a little nap. Cuddling in no gravity would be great—just think! No awkward elbows to worry about.”

“Mm, no.” Windblade said, jetting them down the hallway. “We can always turn the grav engines off on purpose after we get them fixed. You can have your nap after round two.”

Unfortunately, while Chromia had mastered the essential bodyguard skill of 'fall asleep on command, anytime, anywhere'...she never really had bothered to learn 'wake up on cue'. Which could partly be explained by her tendency to escape unwinnable arguments by sending herself into powersave mode, usually after setting her comm auto-reply message to some witty rebuttal and a wakeup time.

In this case not so witty. _“nap. then engines. then whatever you want. 20 minutes.”_

She wasn't wrong, though. Cuddling in zero-g did rather solve the awkward elbow problem.

**Author's Note:**

> I also write other stuff but it's mostly nothing like this ;) most of it is actually edited! btw if you saw any spelling mistakes feel free to let me know I skimmed this at midnight before posting


End file.
